A Hunting We Will Go
by Solsbury Girl
Summary: Christmas for Jack and Ianto, and Owen doesn't quite go as planned.
1. Chapter 1 Christmas Eve

Deeta, finally! Enjoy.

* * *

**A Hunting We Will Go - Christmas Eve**

Jack was in his office, shuffling papers around under the guise of finishing off the things Ianto had been nagging him about for weeks.

"We cannot go into the Christmas holidays with a clear conscience," Ianto had said, beginning to sound like a broken record "unless we are up to date with at least September's paperwork. October would be even better. Add in November and that would be more than enough of a Christmas present for me."

"Just as well I got you a gift instead, then," muttered Jack, making it clear that Ianto's chances of getting October and November were non-existent.

Ianto sighed his frustration. "You'll be the first to complain if funding dries up and there's no coffee, no takeaways, no petrol for the SUV. If there's no petrol, you won't be able to tear around the town like a madman, getting away with all manner of driving offences in the name of Torchwood. Honestly Jack, you went the wrong way down a one way street on the way to Tescos last week, and when the police stopped you, you claimed you were on emergency Torchwood business."

"I was." muttered Jack truculently.

"Pardon?" said Ianto, although he had heard perfectly well the first time.

"I was."

"I do not think…' said Ianto slowly "that running out of your favourite brand of coffee really constitutes an emergency. A tear in the rift? That's an emergency. Aliens falling from the sky? That's an emergency. No caffeine? That is most definitely not an emergency."

"It was from where I was sitting." said Jack refusing to meet Ianto's challenging stare.

"But accepting a police escort?" Ianto was clearly still angry about that.

At this point Jack broke, as he always did. He had never got around to taking his 21st century driving test; after all, he'd been driving since the 51st century which made, to his reckoning, nearly 3000 years experience. But Ianto always brought up the veiled threat of telling the DVLC that he had no valid licence each time he really wanted to push Jack into doing something that Jack already should have done a long time ago. Jack knew the threat was just about to be delivered from Ianto's lips as an incentive to get the paperwork done. Jack knew that he could avoid Ianto's barely concealed blackmail by taking a driving test. He knew it was for his own good. Just like he knew eating spinach was for his own good too, but he couldn't bring himself to do that either. So he put up with the blackmail, but had never dared call the Welshman's bluff, because in his heart of hearts Jack actually thought that Ianto might rat him out. Ianto enjoyed this equilibrium. And Jack, secretly, enjoyed the game.

"OK, Ianto, you got me," he capitulated. "I'll do September." He kissed Ianto on the lips briefly to forestall the next escalation - October - and mussed his hair. Ianto frowned and smoothed it back down. Jack looked pleadingly back at the Welshman in the hope that he might relent as it was nearly Christmas and way past the time they'd wanted to start their own plans for the holiday.

"Go!" Ianto pointed severely towards the office. "If you'd only just sit down and do it, it will only take a couple of hours, not the couple of weeks you've already turned it into. I'm going to finish up in the tourist office. And then, when we are both done, we can go back to my place and…."

"And what?" said Jack with interest

"Well, you'll just have to finish the paperwork to find out."

"And if I don't?"

"The Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency get an anonymous tip off and you get a lonely Christmas."

"Game, set and match," said Jack, wearily ascending the steps to his office, knowing when he was beaten.

Ianto smiled all the way back to the tourist office.

* * *

Ianto didn't actually have anything to do in the office, but he knew if he stayed in the main part of the Hub, near Jack, his resolution would waiver, weaken and die within half an hour and they'd end up in Jack's single bed and by morning they'd have nothing to show for it but paperwork that still wasn't done, backs stiff from cramming two people into a bed designed for one, and post-coital expressions that Owen could always detect from the car park.

Jack had declared Christmas a holiday, and as long as the rift agreed with him, they were all looking forward to three days off, away from the Hub, to rest, relax and recharge their batteries. Tosh especially was excited. She had travelled earlier in the evening to London to be with her family, whom she hadn't seen for longer than the family thought truly acceptable, no matter how secret and important her job.

Ianto was happy. For the first time in a long time he realized that he actually felt happy. Not just "OK" but genuinely happy, as if the future held something to look forward to, to meet with enthusiasm rather than weary acceptance. It took him quite a while to even recognize these feelings of hope, it had been so long since his young life had held anything except pain. His relationship with Jack seemed to be progressing nicely. Of course, neither had dared to tell the other 'I love you', or even 'I think I might be falling in love with you' but he hoped that would come. At the moment, he was enjoying the feelings of trust. And the sex was great. And it felt curiously normal.

Until he'd met Jack, he had had girlfriends. Not many, but enough. And he would never have considered himself to be gay. And even now, in the middle of a passionate relationship with a man, he still didn't think of himself as gay. He attributed no label to it. He supposed that he'd assimilated Jack's 51st century attitude, though he doubted that he'd ever find an alien attractive.

He and Jack planned to spend this Christmas – their first together - doing the things that normal people did. They were going to have a turkey dinner, even though neither of them particularly liked turkey, followed by Christmas pudding. Ianto's Nan made puddings for family and friends every year in June. They were designed to be perfect for consumption by Christmas. She always gave him one but previously, without anyone with whom to share it, he seldom managed more than a slice or two before tossing the remainder out onto the lawn for the birds. One year it occurred to him that it was a gesture symbolic of all he had lost. He cheered himself up that year by pouring a stiff whisky and casting aside the Thomas Mann he'd been reading in favour of watching the Top Gear Christmas special. His tastes were nothing if not eclectic.

This Christmas was truly a new start. He was beginning to heal after the traumas of Canary Wharf, and losing Lisa. At the thought of Lisa, a sad smile played across his face. He still loved her, he always would. But he had begun to think of her again as the Lisa he knew before the great battle. Carefree, wonderful Lisa. Picnics in the park, moonlit walks up to the observatory in Greenwich, lying on their backs on the grass, hands cupped comfortably behind their heads, looking at the stars, wondering what else was out there in the universe. Ice creams at the funfair; Lisa liked Magnums but Ianto preferred the more simple ice lollies he associated with his youth, playing out on the streets of Newport when life had been carefree and school summer holidays seemed to last forever. He always chose a Lemonade Sparkle above anything else. Rollercoaster rides; the time they'd stayed on the rollercoaster for three rides without getting off and oh, how close Ianto had come to throwing up his Lemonade Sparkle after the third. Lisa had laughed at him as she suggested a fourth go.

The memories of Lisa, complete and whole, were coming back. The memories of Lisa, part cyberwoman in constant pain, were starting to fade. No, he thought, not fading. They'd never fade. He would never, ever forget any second of that day in the Hub when he'd tried to finally help her to become fully human again. No matter how much he might want to. But he wasn't sure he wanted to. It was all part of him, what made him who he was. And he felt that he was a stronger, wiser person as a result of what had happened. No, those memories had to stay but it was good that the raw steel, stabbing, icy pain was dimming slightly as his feelings for Jack, and Jack's for him, helped him move on.

Ianto became aware that he had been dozing at the desk as his reverie had started to become much needed sleep. He was tired. But it was nearly 1.00am. Owen had left around 7.00pm, bidding them a cheery goodnight. Well, by Owen's standards it was cheery, which led both Ianto and Jack to the conclusion that he was on a promise. Jack surreptitiously scanned him for alien tech as he left, but he wasn't carrying, so it seemed that some girl out there in Cardiff had genuinely fallen for Owen's bedside manner.

Ianto yawned and called up to Jack on the intercom. "How you doing? Are you nearly done?"

"Nearly," said Jack, guiltily, putting down the Gallifreyan coral he had been absently fondling, jolted back from his own reverie about his time travelling with the Doctor. "Another ten minutes should see it finished."

"Great," said Ianto "I'm ready for home. I'm tired and hungry."

"With you in……"

Ianto cut Jack off suddenly, as an image passed into the CCTV camera view that showed the outside of the tourist office and scanned across the Oval Basin. The image switched every minute to a different view, from tourist office down to the harbour. But what caught Ianto's eye was a large-as-life weevil just outside his own office.

"Bloody hell, Jack!" exclaimed Ianto. "Look at CCTV3. There's a weevil just about ringing our front doorbell and singing carols."

"Well, give him a fiver and send him on his way." Jack played along with Ianto.

"Jack! I'm serious, you numpty! Look at the camera!"

Jack hurriedly left his office and swung into the main Hub, punching the button to bring up the camera Ianto mentioned.

"There's a weevil at the door!" said Jack, in surprise, echoing Ianto's own shock.

"I know, I just told you that! And it certainly isn't singing 'Good King Wencelas'," shouted Ianto in excitement. "I'm closest." He grabbed the can of weevil spray he kept under the counter. He never knew when he'd be called upon to go weevil hunting with Jack, and he liked to be prepared. Above all things, Ianto liked to be prepared.

"No, wait for me!" said Jack, standing to grab his coat.

"Shut up and listen!" exclaimed Ianto. "It's at my front door, I can have it in a couple of minutes. If I wait for you to get down here, it could be in Butetown before we get organized. I'm going after it. It looks like an adolescent anyhow, it won't be a problem. Just finish your paperwork so that when I get back we can go home."

Ianto didn't wait for a reply, but dived out of the tourist office.

He opened the door onto an almost deserted Rohal Dahl Plass. It was nearly 2.00am on 24 December. Snow was falling gently now and it was very cold. The ground was icy underfoot after heavy rain earlier in the day. The weevil was nowhere to be seen. Ianto swore briefly under his breath, afraid that the exchange with Jack had cost him the capture. Suddenly, a brief flurry of movement to his left attracted his attention. The weevil was attempting to hide behind a large refuse container, emptied earlier that day in the last collection before Christmas. Ianto ran towards the noise, spray at the ready.

As he reached the container, Ianto moved more slowly and warily towards the weevil. He didn't want to startle it by making any sudden motion. Here, it was quite well contained and easy enough for him to get it into the Hub unnoticed; not that there was anyone around right now to see anyhow. The weevil stood its ground, weaving its head left and right, all the time watching Ianto with its dull eyes.

"Steady, there's a good weevil," crooned Ianto, as gently as he could, hoping to keep the creature calm. "Just let Uncle Ianto get a little bit closer, closer, so I can get within range and then it's bye-byes." All the while he moved slowly nearer to the weevil. But just as Ianto smoothly brought his right hand up to spray the weevil with the special sedative compound, the weevil broke its cover with an amazing turn of speed.

"Rats!" thought Ianto. "I guess that's what you get when you corner a young one. They can really move."

Ianto gave chase. He was a quick runner, had even won the 400 meters at county level when he was at school. He started to catch up with the weevil as it tore along the paving slabs, under the bridge and out towards the harbour. Ianto grimaced when he saw the weevil head out onto the moorings. He followed the weevil at a cautious distance, not really sure what the alien creature would do once it realized it was truly cornered, its only avenues of escape being either the water or back the way it had come.

As it turned out, he didn't have long to wait for his answer. The weevil clearly didn't consider the water to be an acceptable alternative. As Ianto advanced cautiously, spray at the ready, the weevil rushed towards him, taloned arms flying everywhere, lashing out indiscriminately. One claw made contact with Ianto's chest and raked upwards to his face, drawing blood everywhere it touched.

In a detached manner, Ianto was surprised to find that the injury didn't hurt a bit. He supposed it was due to the initial trauma; he had no doubt but that it would smart like crazy sooner or later. And, in case it was sooner, he felt even more motivated to get this weevil sewn up so that he could get back to the Hub and have Jack sew him up too.

With Ianto blocking the weevil's path back to dry land, it made several attempts to dodge past him but each time Ianto blocked its retreat. But he was never close enough to use the spray. He began to wish that he'd let Jack help him after all. They were at an impasse. Unless Ianto made the way free for the weevil to get away, he'd be forced to fight at close quarters with the creature and he knew that he was no match for the weevil's strength, especially now he was injured. He was debating what to do when the decision was suddenly taken from him. The young weevil's final desperate dash for freedom caught Ianto off guard. Weevils were a pretty predictable species (so alike that Tosh once wondered if they were all perhaps clones) and if it broke for freedom, Ianto had decided to stand to one side and let it by. There wasn't much else to be done, single-handed.

This would have been his preferred option, and by far the least dangerous. However, this young weevil was full of the weevil equivalent of testosterone and was not content with mere escape. As it rushed by Ianto, it seized him, threw him to the ground and bit him very firmly and very deeply on the nearest extremity it could find, which in this instance was the Welshman's right leg.

Ianto looked at the back of the rapidly disappearing creature and sighed. "Great job, Jones," he murmured to himself. "Well done!"

Sitting on the cold, icy wooden planks, he rolled up the leg of his trousers to inspect the damage. It was a dark night but the vestigial light from the street lights and houses around the bay, shining through the snowflakes, gave him enough illumination to make him almost wish they hadn't. At the moment he couldn't feel it, but when he saw the extent of the bite and mangled flesh he winced, knowing that it was going to hurt like hell later – hey, add that to his chest wound, which had started to make itself known with a dull ache. He also knew that he was going to need Owen; Jack couldn't fix this. Owen was not going to be pleased, called out from his bed to the tea-boy's miscalculated weevil fight. It wouldn't have pleased him at the best of times but especially not when he had a hot date in his bed with him on Christmas Eve.

Ianto tried to stand up, testing his leg gingerly to see if it would support his weight. It couldn't. "Not ideal" he said to himself ruefully. He glanced around. Within crawling distance was a pole that was part of the mooring support. He half crawled, half dragged himself along to that and used it to hoist himself upright. His last thought as the weathered pole gave way beneath him was maybe he'd be able to use the part that had broken away as a walking stick to help him back to the Hub. And then he fell backwards into the freezing dark water and knew he'd need more than a walking stick to get him back to the Hub now.

* * *

Jack for once had actually, finally, chosen to knuckle down and finish the paperwork. He was tired, hungry and looking forward to getting back to Ianto's place to satisfy those immediate needs and some others that were nagging away at his groin. He knew though, that unless he finished his tasks, Ianto would leave him hungry, tired, irritable and deprived of a bedtime romp; at least for a short while.

He looked up at the clock, vaguely aware that Ianto should have been back by now. He started when he realized that nearly an hour had passed. Alarm bells sounded at the back of his brain. This was not right. Something must have gone wrong. No way should a simple weevil hunt outside their own front door have taken an hour to bring in. Jack tried ringing down to the tourist office, in the vague hope that somehow Ianto had returned and had chosen not to disturb him, waiting until Jack announced the paperwork was finished. He didn't find this option likely, but you never quite knew where you were with Ianto, which was one of the things that Jack found attractive about him. But there was silence from the office.

Jack quickly scanned the cells to see if they had a new inmate. They didn't.

Jack grabbed his greatcoat from the hook, slung it over his arm, and walked hurriedly down to the tourist office. As he expected, it was empty. He touched the Bluetooth comms device in his ear. "Ianto? Ianto? What's going on out there? Where are you? I need to hear from you."

He waited a moment or two. "Ianto, I need to hear you now. Anything. If you can't talk, just grunt. You have a sexy grunt you know." The humour was as much to lighten Jack's own mood as anything. He didn't think Ianto could hear him.

"Ianto! Please, say something now!" He heard a rise of desperation in his voice. He took several deep breaths, wondering momentarily what to do next.

He located CCTV3 on Ianto's console and rewound the footage to the time that he recalled Ianto saying the weevil was in the Oval Basin. He saw the door to the tourist office open and Ianto step out, shrugging on a short jacket that wasn't going to offer much protection against the snow that was falling. Jack was surprised to see the snow, he hadn't realized that the weather had changed so much. Then he realized it had probably been three days since he last left the Hub.

He frowned as he considered what he would have said to any of the team if they hadn't been outside in 72 hours. Luckily, as leader, he had no one to shout at him. Well, strictly speaking that wasn't true. They all tended to nag him but he ignored them, claiming that to be a leader's privilege. The CCTV footage showed Ianto chasing after the weevil. Then the picture cut for a minute to show a different view of the Plass. No one was out at that hour, the snow was falling heavily now and it looked cold and very uninviting.

Jack was very conscious that he might be wasting time looking at the CCTV pictures, but knew that rushing out blindly into the night wouldn't help Ianto. Not if there was a clue on the CCTV. He fast forwarded, taking care not to miss anything, the infrared cast a strange light over the film. But there really wasn't much to see; finally the camera came back to its position on the tourist office entrance and then panned out to the mooring.

Suddenly, Jack stopped the footage. He wasn't sure what had caught his attention. He looked very carefully at the picture. Then he realized; there appeared to be a slightly darker mark half way along the planks. He couldn't tell if it was just shadow, or water or even, and he hesitated to think this, blood.

Pulling on his great coat, he sped from the Hub, barely taking time to ensure that the door clicked shut and locked behind him. Not that there was anyone around who might try to go in. It was approaching 3.30am, well over an hour since Ianto had gone weevil hunting and half an hour since Jack had noticed he was missing.

"Ianto!" he yelled in his powerful voice as he crossed the Plass. He continued to shout for his missing colleague and friend. There was no answering cry breaking the stillness of the night.

Jack stopped at the pier. There was no sign of the mark he had seen. The snow had started to settle now. In one respect, Jack found this a slight relief, it meant that it wasn't blood; surely that would have seeped through the thin covering of snow, turning the white to scarlet. Wouldn't it? He wondered how much truth there was in his reasoning, or whether he was simply trying to make himself believe that Ianto wasn't hurt. But on the other hand, there was still no sign of Ianto, bleeding or otherwise.

Jack stood very still, listening, looking, for any sign or trace. All he could hear was the soft swish of the waves lapping against, and under, the pier's pilings. He listened intently, becoming gradually aware of another noise. There was a faint dull thud coinciding with the ebb and flow of the waves. It wasn't a noise that Jack could place, it certainly didn't belong beneath the pier. With a certain amount of dread he sank to his knees and looked over the edge of the pier. At first he saw nothing, cursing his stupidity for coming out of the Hub without grabbing one of the powerful torches.

He had a small torch on his keyring – it had been a giveaway from a petrol station one day when he'd filled the SUV. He smiled as he switched it on, remembering Ianto's quizzically raised eyebrow when Jack claimed eighty pounds back from petty cash for filling the car. Jack never filled the car. If Jack took the SUV out, it usually came back dirty and empty. When questioned about the change of attitude, Jack had reluctantly confessed that he'd fancied the free torch. Its casing was a pretty shade of green and it emitted quite a respectable light for a giveaway. And it had a bottle opener built into the rear end, where the key-ring hanger was. It wasn't exactly a sonic screwdriver, but it came in useful on occasions.

Tonight Jack was very glad of his torch. He shone it through the slats in the pier but could see nothing. He then lent over the edge of the pier, gripping the snowy edge carefully to make sure he didn't slip in. He wished he had gloves. He looked under the pier with trepidation. What he saw filled his heart with fear, and his stomach seemed to turn a somersault of truly Olympian proportions.

Ianto's limp body was rising and falling with the waves, bumping rhythmically into the pilings. It took Jack a heartstopping moment to realize that Ianto was not actually face down in the water. He was clearly unconscious, not responding to his name, but at least his head was out of the water, although the water was regularly breaking over him.

Jack looked very hard and realized that Ianto had used his belt to strap his left arm to a piling, so keeping his head just out of the water. As Jack watched for a frozen moment more, he saw a particularly high wave break over Ianto's head, pulling him under for a few seconds. But Ianto gave no sign of noticing. He didn't splutter. There was no involuntary reaction.

"Oh my God!" said Jack, stripping off his coat and shoes, fearing the worst. He was a strong swimmer and knew that he had to very quickly get Ianto out of the icy water. He had no idea quite how icy it was until he hit it head first as he dived in. He took an involuntary breath, gasping at the sheer shock of the cold, involuntarily swallowing a large mouthful of salty water and then spluttering it back out. He struck out for Ianto, reaching him swiftly. He wondered briefly why Ianto hadn't been able to get out of the water. He was a strong swimmer and even in this temperature, he should've been able to swim to the pier edge and hoist himself out as soon as he had fallen in. Jack didn't understand why he'd tied himself to the struts instead.

Putting that thought aside for the time being, Jack set about undoing the belt and getting Ianto to safety. He flipped the unconscious Welshman on his back and placed an arm around his neck, doing a peculiar form of backstroke himself, striking out for safe ground where he could get Ianto out of the water.

The water really was absolutely freezing. Jack quickly felt himself starting to shiver, despite the hard physical effort involved in towing Ianto to safety. His teeth were literally chattering as he got to the side of the boardwalk. He continued to support Ianto whilst he dropped his own feet vertically in the water, now doing a form of dog paddle tokeep them afloat. He pulled Ianto towards him, so that he had a grip on his slim hips then, summoning all his energy, he boosted Ianto up onto the jetty. Ianto landed like a beached fish, his upper torso out of the water, his legs still in the water but enough of him on dry land to stop him slipping back.

Jack wearily placed both palms on the jetty and pressed himself out of the water. He lay dripping on the snowy wooden slats, gasping and shivering and, possibly, crying tears of relief. It was difficult to tell as the icy water poured off him. He'd found Ianto. He hoisted him the rest of the way to the mooring and laid him flat on his back while he made a quick assesment of the Welshman's condition. He put his fingers to Ianto's neck, trying to feel a carotid pulse. It took him several goes as his own fingers were nearly too cold to feel anything and Ianto's pulse was very weak. Finally he was able to reassure himself that, although thready, the pulse was present. He then looked around for his greatcoat, which lay close by, and covered Ianto with it. He reached to his ear for his comms device to summon Owen. It was gone. It must have worked loose in the water.

He took a deep and calming breath. And then another. When he realized that he was no calmer after the third calming breath, he picked Ianto up and ran as fast as he could back to the tourist office entrance to the Hub. The security mechanism scanned his irises and the door opened. Jack ran into the tourist office, put Ianto down on the cold concrete floor, thought better of it and picked him up again, sweeping aside leaflets and booklets and pamphlets from the counter. He knew he'd have to clean that up before Ianto saw it. He placed him on the counter top and punched loudspeaker on the phone. He hit the speed-dial button marked "Owen", all the while ripping Ianto's jacket and shirt open, preparing to empty his lungs of the salt water and get him breathing again.

He knew that Owen would not be particularly pleased to hear from him at nearly 4.00am on any day, let alone on a day off. And for a brief moment, Jack wondered if Owen would answer his phone at all. Or even hear it if he was asleep. But he hoped that even Owen would realize that a call from Torchwood at 4.00am was out of the ordinary and signified an emergency.

After what seemed like an interminable time ringing, the phone went to answer phone mode. "This is Owen, leave a message."

"Owen, it's Jack. If you can hear me, pick up. Owen, please pick up now." Jack swore softly under his breath, but still loud enough for the machine to capture it. "For God's sake call me as soon as you hear this!" he said. He had intended to leave a terse, sharp, urgent, explanatory message but suddenly the adrenaline rush disappeared and his message sounded simply weary and anxious beyond all measure. Jack slammed the receiver down and cursed Owen momentarily for not answering.

Summoning his first aid knowledge, Jack began to breathe into Ianto's mouth, pushing air into his lungs. As he did so, waiting, hoping for that first spluttering gasp, he started to take inventory of what he needed to do next, and quickly.

He knew Ianto was suffering from hypothermia; that was inevitable as he'd spent so long in the water. The young Welshman's body was cold. Jack tried the pulse again. This time he couldn't find it. He tried not to panic. He knew that no matter what, he had to warm Ianto. A victim of an accident such as this really couldn't be pronounced dead for sure until they were adequately warmed.

He was about to start CPR when he thought he felt a tiny flutter beneath his finger tips. He would have cried had he not got his mouth clamped over Ianto's.

The sound of Owen's voice in his ear startled him.

"Owen?" he asked.

"Yeah Jack." replied a sleepy voice. "Who the fuck else would be ringing you back at this time on Christmas morning. Father Christmas ringing to see if the presents were suitable? What's the matter? This had better be good. I'm warm, I'm comfortable, I'm tired ….." Owen broke off, and Jack heard a sharp intake of breath followed by a low moan. Although no one could see him, Jack raised one eyebrow; he knew what it took to make him make noises like that. Owen obviously had company. Accomplished company.

"Sssh. Listen to me, Owen, please," cut in Jack, not unsympathetic to Owen's situation.

Something in the tone of Jack's voice stopped Owen in mid-groan. Jack could tell that he was gently fending off a companion.

"What's happened Jack? What's wrong? Are you OK? You don't sound too good."

"I'll live." Jack laughed ironically, his voice cracking with emotion. "I always do. No, Ianto is our problem child." Lying there on the counter, eyes closed and deathly pale, with blue tinged lips, Ianto looked, indeed, very young. Jack checked himself. Ianto WAS very young.

"What's the stupid Welsh twat done at 4.00am that requires a doctor? Paper cut from some late night filing? Pulled a muscle doing you over the boardroom table?"

"Owen, just get here as quick as you can. Ianto went hunting weevil, something went wrong."

"Where's he hurt?" Owen became instantly professional, all joking cast aside.

Realising he needed to answer Owen objectively, not quite as subjectively as he'd been viewing the situation so far, Jack removed the great coat that was covering Ianto again and really looked at the unconscious man for the first time, in the light. That was when he noticed that he was bleeding slowly from his chest and from his leg. The water must have washed those bloody traces away and only now did Jack recognize the severity of the weevil wounds.

"Oh shit!" he exclaimed.

"What, Jack? WHAT?" Owen was starting to become increasingly alarmed.

"Owen, he's hypothermic and he's bleeding. And he isn't breathing."

"Christ!" exclaimed Owen. "How long?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe he was in the water for half an hour, maybe an hour. I don't know. I've been breathing for him for a few minutes now."

"Fuck!"

Jack could tell by the escalation of Owen's language that the doctor had passed from concerned to highly worried.

Again, from Owen "Fuck! Any idea what his core temp is?"

"No, sorry." Said Jack. "But his pulse is very weak, if I can even find it, and he is very very cold. And I'm not sure how much blood he's lost. It doesn't look like much but…."

Jack tailed off, losing his train of thought. He shook his head, trying to regain himself. The slight loss of concentration was not lost on Owen.

"Jack? Were you in the water too?"

"Mmm" Jack indicated in the affirmative.

"Ah shit!" said Owen; although he'd angled his phone away from his mouth, Jack still heard the exclamation of concern. "Jack, this is what I need you to do." Owen took charge, directing Jack from the end of the phone.

Jack sagged in relief against the counter top; he was too cold to think and it felt good to have Owen tell him what to do. He let the sensation wash over him, aware that Owen was giving him instructions. But he wasn't taking them in. He tried to concentrate but the words didn't seem to make much sense. He felt his strength draining away as the adrenaline ebbed quickly from his body, and the coldness, tiredness and emotion began to take hold.

"So, are you clear on that Jack? Do you understand what you need to do?"

"Mmmm" Jack mumbled. "Er, yeah. Um, I mean no. Owen, tell me again?"

Owen was shouting into the phone now."Tell me, how is Ianto? Is he breathing for himself yet" There was an ominous silence. "Jack? Jack! How is Ianto?"

"He's still not breathing. And I can't find a pulse anymore. I think he's dead, Owen, I think I've lost him."


	2. Chapter 2 Christmas Day

Don't rely on the medical stuff in this story should you ever find yourself chilling in Cardiff Bay on Christmas Eve. It is what I remember from the ski mountain rescue course I did a while back. You'd do much better to go chill somewhere more convivial! Thanks everyone for the reviews. They are always so welcome. Torchwood 3 on Monday for the lucky ones amongst us, eh! Can't wait. I will miss Owen and Tosh though. Ahh, Owen.

* * *

**A Hunting We Will Go – Christmas Day**

"No, Owen, he isn't breathing for himself!" Jack's voice hitched. Owen could tell that Jack was bordering on panic. Luckily years of having to keep calm in crisis situations had kicked in semi-automatically.

"Don't panic, Jack. Just stay calm." Owen felt anything other than calm himself, but he managed to project a facade of complete control. The last thing he could afford was Jack going off the rails. And Jack was clearly going to be unpredictable; he'd been in the icy waters of Cardiff Bay saving Ianto and was now suffering the trauma of losing his lover.

"But he's not breathing, Owen, he isn't breathing and I can't find a pulse." Jack's voice hitched.

"He probably hasn't been breathing for a while, actually," said Owen, assessing the situation and, belatedly, wishing he hadn't externalised his thoughts.

"But what can I do?" asked Jack, on the edge of cracking. "There must be something I can do!" Owen's heart went out to the man; he could hear the desperation and the barely suppressed panic. He began to quickly list what Jack needed to do before he could get there.

Jack was on overload. He was now only vaguely aware that Owen had started to give him instructions. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't concentrate, couldn't make sense of what he was hearing.

"JACK! How long were you in the water?" Owen was shouting in his ear. He had no idea what Owen had been saying. Owen's voice jolted Jack back to reality. He realised that he'd drifted away again. He couldn't believe he had dozed off while Owen was telling him how to save Ianto's life.

"Dunno." His eyes opened with a jerk. He felt surprisingly warm. That didn't make sense, he'd been in icy water and was still wearing wet clothes. And the Hub was never the warmest of buildings. But he was really quite hot. He peeled back his braces and took off his shirt, stripping to his undershirt. There. That should help him cool off.

There was a tinny sound coming from a long distance away. He looked around for the source and realised that it was coming from the phone, which he'd placed on the counter while he took off his shirt.

He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear again. Owen's voice was bordering on hysterical. He had seldom heard the doctor sound so helpless. Jack dragged himself reluctantly back to full reality and forced himself to listen. "Sorry Owen. Tell me everything again. I'm in a bit of trouble here too, I think."

"OK, Jack, OK. " Owen soothed. "I'll be there as quickly as I can. But listen to me. You must listen."

As soon as he had Jack's attention, Owen calmed down and was instantly professional again. "Now, listen to me carefully this time Jack. Concentrate on my voice. Concentrate. I think you are hypothermic too. I need you to help Ianto, but first you've got to help yourself. I can't have you collapsing on me now, you'd be no use to Ianto. Get out of your wet clothes. Get yourself warmed up. What? You are warm? No, you aren't, you only think you are. Trust me, that's a side effect of hypothermia."

"Put on something warm and dry. And make yourself a hot drink. Shove it in the microwave while you change. Nick one of Gwen's cuppa soups out of the cupboard above the sink; I often do." Owen realized he'd perhaps said too much because the search for the soup thief had been hotting up in the office recently. He wasn't about to tell Gwen that he actually had a drawer full of unused soups he'd been pilfering regularly from the kitchen, out of the boxes clearly marked 'Gwen' in stern, no-nonsense lettering. He didn't actually like them, but it was an entertainment that could be counted on to liven up a rift-less day.

"Then go get the oxygen. I need you to do more rescue breathing for Ianto. But he will undoubtedly be hypoxic by now, so if you breathe the oxygen first, you can get a higher percentage of oxygen into him than just using your normal expelled air. And Jack? Just do it. With luck, your abundant life force will help in the mix. But we need to rely on medical science, not the Vortex for this. Now, get yourself dry."

Jack murmured "But Ianto?"

Owen was firm. "Sort yourself out first. You might be immortal, but you are no good to Ianto whatsoever if you keel over, which I think you are in danger of doing. There's not time for the whole resurrection thing. I'm at least 30 minutes away. Just put Ianto on the couch and cover him up for now. Then go get dry, put on some warm clothes as quickly as you can. I'll call you back in a couple of minutes and talk you through what you need to do next for the teaboy."

Owen realized that Jack's brain was barely able to process the instructions he'd just given him, let alone retain what needed to be done in the next half hour for the Welshman. In the time it took Jack to get changed, Owen figured he could be showered, dressed and in his car on his way back to the Hub. He considered whether he could skip the shower but decided in view of the amount of chocolate still smeared over his naked body, fifteen seconds under the warm water was a necessity not a luxury.

He considered calling the local ambulance service, but was sure that which ever of the two possible outcomes would play out, they could do no more than he was already orchestrating. And they had less experience in such matters anyway. It would take them time to come to conclusions, but by experience Owen already knew what to do.

The roads were deserted at that time of night; the only encounter Owen risked was one with a police patrol. He weighed up the risk and drove as fast as he safely could towards Mermaid Quay. He rang Jack, who answered swiftly. Even in such a short time, he sounded measurably better.

"Owen, what do I need to do for Ianto?"

"First Jack, tell me. Are you warm, dry and dressed? Is your thinking any clearer?"

"I'm dry Owen, but now I am cold again. It's all a bit confusing still."

"OK." Owen needed to know how Jack was in order to properly judge the level of instruction he could safely give to him. "Have you had a hot drink?"

"Yes," replied Jack. "I've got one of Gwen's Cream of Tomato in my blue and white striped mug."

"Jack. Concentrate. It is good that you have had a drink. But I really don't need to know what mug you made it in." Owen was worried by the way that Jack seemed unable to really tell the important points from the trivial. But he wasn't surprised, he'd seen such things before; long before he'd met Katie, as a young intern, he'd been an enthusiastic climber. He had spent one perfect summer in the Bernese Oberland at Interlaken climbing the Eiger, then going to France to attempt the north face of the Dru from Chamonix before using the cable car to get up to the Aiguilles du Midi and then across the glacier and, via Point Helbronner, into Italy for a wonderful interrailing holiday in Italy. The following summer he had spent in the Andes, making an ascent of Siula Grande. Back in those days, he had even embraced camping.

Then he'd met Katie at a pub in Cardiff and everything had changed. She hated what she saw as dangerous hobbies like climbing mountains and he'd reluctantly restricted himself to the occasional climbing wall in Cardiff. None of his Torchwood colleagues knew this side of Owen. He'd packed it all away, just like he'd packed away his hurt and grief at losing Katie, and kept it bottled up as an explosive memory.

"Have you been doing the rescue breathing?" Owen continued.

"Oh yes," said Jack, sleepy again. "It's OK now. Ianto is breathing for himself." And this worried Owen more than anything. Not for Ianto, but for Jack. Under normal circumstances Jack would have been an emotional wreck at having nearly lost Ianto and now brought him back. But he was so matter of fact and dispassionate.

"Listen to me. Listen. That is great news that Ianto is breathing for himself. Get an oxygen mask on him if you can. But you need to get him warmed up, for sure. So listen carefully. I am going to tell you what you mustn't do. I repeat, this is what you must not do. Listen to me and try to concentrate on what I'm saying. Don't massage him, don't try to rub him warm. Understand? You need to be very gentle with him; he's in danger of a cardiac arrest. Can you get him onto the couch? Yes? Great. Well, undress him. Try not to move him too much. Cut his clothes off if you have to. But be careful and be gentle." Owen stopped himself before he added a sentence that almost slipped out. He was very close to saying "I'm sure you've had plenty of experience of undressing the teaboy." But he managed to check himself. This was neither the time nor the place for a quip about the boss's relationship with the archivist.

Jack missed the hesitation. He was busy thinking about what Ianto would say to the idea of having his suit cut off him, but as it was almost certainly ruined by the water anyhow, it didn't matter.

Owen continued: "Warm him gently with some compresses on his neck, his chest and his groin. Yes, the major points. But not his arms or legs, that could force the cold blood back to his heart. And that's not what we want at all. And then tuck him in and keep him warm. Check his breathing and pulse regularly, they'll be difficult to find though. OK? And just wait for me to get there."

"OK"

"Oh, and Jack?"

"Yes, Owen?"

"Feel free to share your body heat with him."

Jack snorted into the phone.

Owen could tell that Jack's condition was improving.

* * *

Jack carried Ianto through to the main part of the Hub, a trail of blood and water marking their progress. Well, he thought, at least Owen will have no trouble locating them. It was yet another mess that would need cleaning up before Ianto saw it.

Jack started to remove Ianto's cold and sodden clothes; his coat, suit jacket and shirt were all in tatters where the weevil had slashed at him with its claws. Jack had ripped them even further open when he thought he would need to do CPR. Jack had those off quickly. He also soon stripped Ianto of trousers and underwear, so that the warm compresses could work directly on his skin. That was when he noticed the severity of the leg wound. In fact, from the angle of the ankle Jack wondered if it might be broken. All that went a long way to explaining why Ianto had been unable to get out of the water unassisted.

Jack realized that he was now shivering periodically himself, but he was thinking more clearly. He fetched his duvet from his sleeping quarters, and some blankets from the medical area. He folded one insulating foil blanket and rolled it under Ianto; the couch was a little damp from where the Welshman had been lying for a short while in his wet clothes.

Jack reviewed the instructions Owen had given him and was satisfied that he'd carried them out as best he could. He was anxious for Owen to arrive. He was about to start pacing when he remember the doctor's parting comment "Feel free to share your body heat." He removed the towel he'd looped around his waist after he'd dried off. He had totally forgotten Owen's instructions to get dressed.

And that was how Owen found them, twenty minutes later. Jack, lying drowsily on the couch, his body plastered to every contour of Ianto's back. He was holding the unconscious Ianto tightly, beneath a nest made up of assorted bedclothes, crooning gentle words of encouragement into the Welshman's oblivious ear. If asked later, neither Jack nor Owen would have had any idea what Jack had been whispering, though Jack suspected it might have been a song his mother used to sing to him and his brother long ago in the future.

* * *

"Oh Lord, Jack!" exclaimed Owen. "Whatever have you two got yourselves into this time? Let's have a look at the teaboy." He pulled the blankets back from the pair. He eyed his captain closely, digesting every physical sign he could see. "And then," he added "after we've taken care of Ianto, I'm going to put you to bed properly."

Under normal circumstances, Jack would have found innuendo in this sentence but now, he simply didn't have the energy. Owen peeled Jack off Ianto and knelt down to begin his examination. He produced a thermometer from his medical pack and put it under Ianto's armpit. Much to Jack's surprise, he produced a second and shoved it unceremoniously into Jack's mouth before Jack could say a thing. Jack was about to wave him away when Owen scowled at him, but put a gentle hand on his arm. "Me thinks my captain doth protest too much. Now, shut up and suck on that or else I'll take a true core reading and I'm not sure you'd want me to put it there." Jack smiled at the slight emphasis Owen placed on the word 'me'.

Jack did as he was told, trying to still his chattering teeth.

After a while, Owen looked up from Ianto. "You did a good job here, Jacko, my boy. Another few minutes in the water and it would be a different story. He's by no means out of the woods yet though."

Owen's use of the nickname surprised Jack; he hadn't traded under that in a long time and it didn't bring back good memories. But Owen didn't know that.

"Young Mr Jones has lost a lot of blood, though it could have been worse. The cold of the water stopped him bleeding so heavily. He could've bled out. The cold was definitely a blessing in disguise. I think he's broken his ankle but I need to X-Ray it later, once I've stabilized him, just to be sure. But at the moment, his core temperature is still under 31 degrees centigrade. Getting him warm is our first priority."

Owen took the thermometer from Jack's mouth."You are still low, too low. Only 33 degrees," he observed. "For heaven's sakes get dressed and then go warm up the autopsy bay. Actually, warm up the whole Hub. We might as well all be comfortable for a change in this mausoleum. But first – go put some clothes on. You'll catch your death of cold like that. I thought I already told you to get dressed in dry stuff."

Jack shrugged then grinned, aware for the first time that he and his lover had both been naked, on the couch. Under normal circumstances, he might have tried to play the situation, but today was not that day. "Sharing body heat." He offered by way of explanation.

* * *

Five minutes later, Jack was dressed in clothes Owen didn't realise Jack owned. He was layered in T-shirt, fleecy sweat shirt, North Face fleece jacket and matching trousers. Owen cocked a questioning eyebrow up at him from the autopsy bay.

"We went hiking in Snowdonia last winter. I was prepared!" he retorted with a smile, and went down to join the doctor. Despite his wiry build, Owen was strong and had carried the Welshman there on his own. He'd roughly splinted the injured ankle to stop it moving and causing more damage. He was preparing to give Ianto a blood transfusion. Ianto was now cocooned amongst heated blankets. Jack marvelled that their supplies actually extended to such things. He left all that kind of medical administrative work to Ianto and Owen. He felt a flush of pride in knowing that his team was good, damned good.

"Jack, I've got two litres of saline warming, could you get them for me?" Owen commanded, rather than asked, as he inserted a port into the vein in the crook of Ianto's left arm and hooked up the blood.

Jack handed him the package, which Owen hung on the hook of the stand, adjacent to the blood. "This could take a while. He needs fluids and blood. Why don't you have a rest yourself? Because then I am going to need your help while I sew him up. But I don't want to move him too much until he is warmer. Too much chance of arrhythmia."

Jack wanted to protest but quickly saw the wisdom of Owen's thinking. Much better to be more rested and alert and useful later than a hovering, worried boyfriend now. Owen marvelled sometimes that Jack could turn emotions on and off seemingly at the flick of an internal switch, and looked on enviously as Jack retreated upstairs to lie down on the couch and, warmly wrapped, slept deeply without dreams.

* * *

"Jack, I need to sew him up now. Do you think you are in a fit state to assist me?"

Jack woke up, instantly alert and nodded; his shivering had abated and he was feeling better, though still chilled to the very marrow.

"Can you manage the instruments without fumbling? Or should I call one of the girls to come in and help?"

"No, I'd rather do it." said Jack. "I'll be alright."

"OK, if you are sure. Let's get started."

Although he was pretty certain that Ianto could feel nothing, Owen still injected each site with a local anaesthetic before he started working. As he finished at each site, while he waited for the next injection to take effect, he had Jack lift Ianto's eyelids and shine the bright penlight torch into Ianto's eyes; it saved him removing his blood soaked gloves if Jack did it.

"He probably has a concussion too," Owen explained. "I don't think it is serious but I can't tell for sure yet. I'm kinda glad he is still out of it, I couldn't give him any pain relief at the moment and, if he was awake, he'd sure as hell be hurting from these weevil wounds."

It took Owen four hours to finish sewing up Ianto. The stitches were neat, tiny and meticulous. It always amazed Jack when he saw Owen work. The professional doctor was so unlike the malcontent Owen they usually saw. Jack wondered briefly quite what that said about Owen. Though actually, he thought, he didn't have to wonder. Like the rest of the Torchwood staff, Owen was a troubled, hurt individual. He was as broken as the rest of them and only when immersed in his work did he stop hiding behind a facade and really become himself again.

Periodically as he worked, Owen measured both Ianto's and Jack's temperatures. Jack was coming back towards normal satisfactorily, Ianto remained dangerously low.

"Well, that's about it for now." Said Owen. "I still want to get that leg X-rayed, but I think Ianto needs some time out now. As do we all."

He touched his fingers quickly to Jack's neck before Jack could shy away. "Pulse is fine. You'll do." He said. "But you're still cold. He threw a blanket around Jack's shoulders. "Let's go upstairs and rest some more."

Jack didn't argue. Owen guided him back to the couch in main Hub, then disappeared for five minutes in the direction of the kitchen. Jack heard some worrying noises coming from that area and added "clean up coffee machine before Ianto sees it" to the ever-growing housekeeping inventory. But, nonetheless, he craved a cup of coffee, even Owen's.

Owen emerged carrying two steaming mugs. "I think I've cracked it!" he said.

"Great!" said Jack, holding out a hand for one of the mugs Owen was carrying. They'd all tried to use the coffee machine at some point or another, but no one made coffee like Ianto. However, just maybe Owen had managed something drinkable for a change.

"Actually, not so great." said Owen, with more than a hint of apology in his voice. "When I said 'I think I've cracked it', I meant 'I think I've cracked it'….I think I broke the coffee machine".

Jack sighed. It was shaping up to be an expensive Christmas if they needed a new coffee machine. And he'd only done the expenses as far as September. Had it really only been eight hours ago that he'd finished September? He gratefully accepted his coffee from Owen and closed his eyes as he took a first sip, wanting to savour the heat and flavour of his first caffeine in hours.

He spluttered and opened his eyes. "What the hell is this?" he asked Owen accusingly, noticing that Owen was smiling suspiciously. "Where's my coffee?"

"Sorry, Jack." Said Owen. "You're not getting caffeine at the moment. It constricts the blood vessels. You've got hot chocolate. It will help you sleep. Don't forget, you've had something of a hard evening! " He held up a warning finger, pointing meaningfully at Jack, to forestall the protests he knew were about to come. "You need to recover, there's nothing more you can do at the moment for Ianto. That will come soon enough and you'll need all your strength. So just humour your doctor, huh? Drink up and go to bed. Or do I have to drug you to make you sleep?"

Jack knew when he was beaten. As soon as Owen pulled medical rank, there was little he would do. Owen only did that when it was necessary.

Jack put the cup down on the table and held up both hands in defeat. "OK, OK."

"Drink your chocolate." instructed Owen firmly. "Or I'll put it in a sippy cup and feed it to you."

"I'm drinkin', I'm drinkin'." Jack pulled a face to indicate his supreme displeasure and started working his way through the mug. Although he wouldn't give Owen the satisfaction of admitting it, he did feel measurably better as he drank it. He was only half way through when he felt his eyelids slipping closed. He wondered briefly whether he'd been drugged but realised it was just delayed reaction to the evening's events. He jerked awake and took another sip. His eyes started to slide shut again. Owen caught the mug before it fell, and placed it on the table in front of them. He had intended getting Jack into bed but the near-comatose figure of Jack, on the sofa, presented rather a problem. Strong as he was, Owen knew he wasn't equal to the task of getting all six feet two inches of Jack safely down the ladder that led to his somewhat incongruous bedroom area in the bunker off the office.

Instead, Owen encouraged Jack to lie on the couch so recently vacated by Ianto, lifting Jack's legs up, taking the blanket from Jack's shoulders and tossing it over him on the couch. He fetched two more and tucked Jack in firmly. After one last check of pulse and temperature, Owen reached out to smooth the hair back from Jack's face in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture.

Jack's eyes flickered open "Thanks, Owen. Sorry that we spoiled your evening," he muttered, feeling like a clock whose spring had run down. He yawned widely and burrowed deep into the couch beneath the heavy blankets. Exhausted, and finally warm, he fell asleep almost instantly.

"Sorry you ruined my evening," repeated Owen, quietly to himself. "Oh you will be Jacko, you will be. Because as soon as the pair of you are better, I'm gonna kill you!"

Owen was not embarrassed that Jack had registered the gesture. Owen knew the value of a touch, a smile, a comforting gesture. It was something that he had lacked so often himself, growing up. And after Katie died. Oh, how alone he'd been then; alone with his anger and sorrow. He touched Jack tenderly on the cheek. "Now, just shut up for a change."

* * *

When Gwen came in that afternoon, to collect the Christmas present she'd been hiding from Rhys at the Hub, she was astounded to find the tourist office looking like a whirlwind had hit it. Her first thought was that Jack and Ianto had dabbled on their way home. She stopped to gather the scattered papers and put them on the counter top. Ianto would have to sort out the mess, she surely wasn't going to. When she noticed blood on the counter, she became very anxious. She drew her gun and moved slowly and cautiously through the corridors to the main Hub.

The sight that greeted her there was not one she had been expecting. If she were to be honest, she couldn't really say just what she'd been expecting but what she saw hadn't entered into her possibilities. Jack was sound asleep on the couch swathed in heavy blankets, sweating profusely, and Owen was sitting on the floor fully dressed. He was leaning against the couch, his head back, snoring gently through his open mouth. Jack's hand had worked loose from the blankets in which he was swaddled and rested lightly on top of Owen's head.

She realized that the temperature was stiflingly hot throughout the Hub. Simultaneously she realized that Jack had opened one eye and was watching her sleepily and that she could hear the constant reassuring beep of a patient monitor issuing forth from the autopsy bay. Jack too was listening to the sound.

"Ianto?" she mouthed soundlessly at Jack, not wanting to wake the sleeping doctor.

Jack nodded and Gwen hurried to the rail at the top of the bay and looked down. "You boys seem to have had a busy day," she whispered.

"Busy night, actually," he replied. "Owen is exhausted, he's only just got to sleep. He's been fussing with Ianto for hours." Jack filled her in on what had happened.

"Just can't leave you boys alone for a moment," she commented. Jack looked at her from under lids hooded with amusement. "That's not what I meant, Harkness! I suppose someone around here had better feed the animals. And then I'll take care of Janet and Myfanwy afterwards." She smiled at her own joke.

Gwen disappeared towards the kitchen, intent on rustling up some bacon and scrambled eggs or an omelette. Jack was grateful. He realised that he was actually rather hungry.

Owen stirred, reluctantly dragging himself awake. Jack was suddenly aware that his hand still rested on Owen's head. He ruffled the doctor's hair playfully. "Take it easy, Dr Harper, you did a fine job last night."

Owen scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to wake up. "Bloody hell, it's warm in here. I wouldn't be surprised if we aren't all dehydrated now." He checked Jack. "You'll do. Warm enough."

Jack smiled, feeling well enough again to venture "Most people reckon I'm pretty hot, actually."

Owen ignored him and went down into the autopsy bay. Jack stretched out on the couch, trying to straighten the kinks in his back. With every ounce of his being he wanted to follow Owen, but he found the resolve to let the doctor go to his patient alone. Owen had dealt with a hugely difficult situation the previous night and deserved the full confidence of his captain still the next morning.

"He's sleeping normally," was Owen's verdict when he returned a few moments later. "You can go see him once you've eaten." Gwen handed him a plate of bacon and eggs and toast which he accepted gratefully. "Odd time for breakfast," he commented ruefully. "I was expecting to have just finished Christmas dinner now."

Jack nodded. "Yes, us too."

A look of horror overcame Gwen, as she unceremoniously thrust a plate towards Jack. "Ooh, bloody hell. Rhys! The turkey!"

Owen reprimanded her. "Rhys isn't that bad, surely."

Gwen didn't even bother with a glare, she pulled on her coat and raced from the Hub. Owen took the virtual glare as given.

"Eat your breakfast, Jack, he'll be fine." Owen answered Jack's unspoken question. "He's sleeping normally. Yes, we have that leg to work on but he will be good as new in a few weeks."

Jack took a few mouthfuls, this time with obvious relief and relish. Nothing finer than bacon, eggs and toast when someone has just told you that your whole world is back on track. "But tell me Owen, how come he was in the water so long without drowning? Oh, I know he wasn't underwater all that time, but surely he must have inhaled a huge amount every time he went under or the waves broke over him?"

"The human body is an amazing thing, Jack. You of all people should know that. As soon as Ianto hit the cold water his layrynx – that is his vocal chords – contracted and effectively sealed off his lungs from the water. Mind, this stops the air getting to the lungs too but because he was so cold he was able to survive. He was extremely lucky, given everything else, not to go into cardiac arrest. But I guess our teaboy is made of sterner stuff than any of us thought."

The doctor and the captain finished their breakfasts. "Coffee?" said Jack, part offering to make it and part asking if he might please now have some.

"Sure," said Owen.

As Jack went to make the coffee, the phone rang. Owen answered it on speaker phone. It was Tosh, wishing whoever was at the Hub a happy Christmas. Owen assured her that his presence did not indicate anything bad had happened, simply that he had left his iPod there and called in to collect it. There was no point worrying Tosh with the happenings of the previous night. She'd find out soon enough anyway and there was nothing she could do except ruin her own family celebration by fretting.

As he hung up, Owen heard a weak voice attempt to gain attention from the autopsy bay. Ianto was clearly starting the long road to recovery. Owen jogged across and took the steps two at a time.

Still very pale, Ianto stared up at him, clearly trying to process where he was; what had happened.

"Welcome back, teaboy," said Owen with a tenderness and relief that panicked Ianto more than anything.

"Bad?" croaked the Welshman.

"Bad." replied the doctor.

"Bugger," they said, in unison and then laughed.

Owen shone his pen light in Ianto's eyes. "Well, I have some good news and some bad news for you."

Wanly, Ianto grimaced against his pain. "Yeah?"

"No concussion. So give me around 30 seconds and I can stop you hurting. Morphine for Christmas. For free. Not an offer you get every day. Say 'thank you Santa.'"

"Thanks, Owen." Ianto put his hand shakily on Owen's forearm. His eyes said it all. He didn't yet know what he had to be grateful for, but he knew it was big.

Jack chose that moment to return from his clearing up mission, and bounded into the autopsy bay when he heard Ianto was awake. Despite his desire to pick Ianto up and hold him close, he took his cue from the bluey-greyness of the Welshman's pallor and the vehement way the doctor was shaking his head. He settled for a gentle kiss to the lips, which were still colder than normal. Whilst making that intimate contact, he whispered "I love you, Ianto." He wasn't sure if Ianto had heard, but he knew that he would tell him again, more loudly, in private very very soon. The events of the evening had clarified many things in Jack's mind.

"Owen?" asked Ianto, trying unsuccessfully to prop himself up on an elbow. He looked worried. "You said there was bad news too."

Owen took a step back distancing himself from the captain and the archivist. "You bet!" Suddenly his voice was harsh. "What the fuck did you two think you were playing at? Jack, since when does any of us go out weevil hunting alone? What the hell were you thinking, to let Ianto go out on his own, into the dark and snow and ice to chase an alien?"

Jack and Ianto exchanged glances. It had all seemed so natural at the time. It had just slotted into place. It had seemed so obvious.

"If I'd waited for Jack, I wouldn't have caught the weevil," replied Ianto, by way of simple, but obvious, explanation. Jack nodded in agreement.

"So, where's the weevil, then?" challenged Owen, his gestures starting to become very animated.

Ianto's face fell. He was forced to admit: "I didn't catch it."

"So how would waiting have hurt? No! Don't answer. Don't say anymore. That was rhetorical, because I am going to tell you! It wouldn't have hurt. It wouldn't have hurt at all. In fact, if you'd waited, you wouldn't be hurting now, Teaboy. And the pair of you might even have caught the bloody weevil. I thought we had rules about not letting anyone out on field work without backup?" His face was getting redder and redder as his speech got faster.

"But no. Oh, no. You two are just so stupid you don't think of that when a weevil is on your doorstep. What do the insurance companies say? Most accidents happen at home? Well, talk about living proof. And you, teaboy, are lucky to still be alive. If the weevil didn't kill you, you are lucky that I haven't. I've got a good mind to switch off the morphine and let you suffer, Ianto, just to teach you a lesson."

Neither Jack nor Ianto disbelieved him. Ianto was about to say that he'd learned his lesson and didn't need additional homework, when Owen continued in a somewhat different tone.

"But," he said, "I am a professional, unlike the pair of you two bloody idiots, and I wouldn't take away your pain relief. But believe me, if ever – EVER – you do anything like this again, my resignation will be on your desk, Harkness, faster than you can count to one."

Jack and Ianto had no choice but to accept this dressing down. They knew they soundly deserved it.

"But," continued Owen, softening a little having made his point, "it is Christmas and we've all suffered enough. Let's just put this behind us and learn from it."

Jack and Ianto nodded gratefully, hoping the matter was at an end.

"And, actually, Harkness, you have a far bigger problem than me," said Owen, smiling now.

They looked at him.

"Talk sense," entreated Jack. He'd had enough and just wanted some peace and quiet and time to sit with Ianto.

"When I took the breakfast dishes to the kitchen and stacked them in the sink with the other dirty cups, I found a note." Owen produced the note from his lab coat pocket. "It is from Gwen. And I don't think she is very happy. Not happy at all."

Ianto propped himself up on one elbow easily this time, the morphine obviously doing its job. "What does it say?" he croaked. Owen offered him some ice chips, which he gratefully sucked.

"It says, and I quote, 'I can see from the tomato stains in your mug that you are clearly the culprit, Harkness. Under normal circumstances, I imagine that Ianto does the clean-up job for you but this time you have given yourself away!"

Ianto looked uncomprehendingly at Owen. But Owen, who had clearly understood the situation, was laughing as he read the end of the note.

"What's going on?" Ianto asked. No one heard.

Jack, too, was laughing hard, and slapping his leg. "Oh, that is priceless!"

"What's priceless?" Ianto was starting to get agitated, and the patient monitor was making a tachycardic beep as his heart started to race.

Owen pressed him gently, encouraging him to lie back. "Sssh, take it easy, mate."

"Well," replied Jack, "You know how Gwen has been complaining that someone has been stealing her cuppa soups?"

"Yeah," said Ianto, slowly, wondering in trepidation what was coming next.

"It was actually Owen all along," continued Jack. "But tonight I took a tomato, just to get me a bit warmed up and now she thinks it was me taking them all."

The captain and the doctor were laughing. The archivist remained serious.

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" he asked. "Gwen's well scary when she's angry."

"We?" echoed Jack and Owen, in unison.

"Yes, we," repeated Ianto, "because I'm the one who took her Cream of Mushroom with croutons!"

* * *

End


End file.
